A Snip-bit
by GodzillasCaptor
Summary: Basically a first-person story of how Edward Scissorhands and I find our way into a romance. "With a start, I realized that I had come to a ledge a couple of meter's off of the top. Pausing, I took a breath, and sat on the ledge. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and took out a candy-bar. I was running away from home" Rated T for now
1. The Home

I sighed, tucking one of my curly locks behind my ear and looking around. My vision was horrible, I could hardly see what was four feet in front of me without someone describing it to me. Climbing higher onto the monstrous hill, I put in my ear-buds (that were connected to my Kindle) and listened to _It's Not my Time _By 3 Doors Down.

"But it's not my time, I'm not going, there's a fear in me, but it's not showing!" I sang softly to myself. I didn't have the bragging rights of an amazing singer, but I was average. Singing in the shower, when no one was home. You know, normal and average things that everyday people do.

With a start, I realized that I had come to a ledge a couple of meter's off of the top. Pausing, I took a breath, and sat on the ledge. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and took out a candy-bar. I was running away from home, my mother and father simply didn't care about me like they did my brother. I was sick and tired of it.

Gulping it down, I got back up and trekked for about ten minutes, weaving through the overgrown bushes that splayed over the road and basically dripped with blackberries. The mansion that lay a few feet ahead looked dark and empty, and I almost flinched when a bird flew overhead and into what looked like a broken window.

Shrugging, I huffed and pushed open the creaking gate. I didn't believe the story of the so called 'Edward Scissorhands', it was a nursery story that I often heard my parents talking about when me and my brother were playing outside, or when they thought I was asleep.

Just because I am laying down with my eyes closed, does not mean I am asleep.

I entered the garden, immediately in awe at it's beauty. The bushes were clipped to the perfection of a form of an animal, or an inanimate object. How weird.

"Shit!" I said as I tripped over what looked to be a human skull. I landed with my hands put out, and cursed when a small cut formed across the edge of my thumb. "Whoever owned this place forgot to clean up their kill" I sneered, kicking the skull away and trumping to the entrance of the mansion.

I simply pushed open the door. 'Creepy' or 'scary' places have never bothered me much, that just goes to show how much my mother and father cared where I went and why.

I turned my music up as soon at the quick pace of 'Prison Song' came on in my ear-buds. I looked around the dusty room, cobwebs layered each area with a different amount of dander and dirt.

"Minor drug offenders fill your prisons, You don't even flinch, All our taxes paying for your wars, Against the new non-rich, Minor drug offenders fill your prisons, You don't even flinch, All our taxes paying for your wars, Against the new non-rich, I buy my crack, my smack, my bitch, Right here in Hollywood, The percentage of Americans in the prison system, prison system, Prison system, has doubled since 1985, They're trying to build a prison, They're trying to build a prison, They're trying to build a prison, They're trying to build a prison, Another prison system, Another prison system, Another prison system. For you and me... for you and me, for you and me..."

I shouted all of that in one go, and man was I breathless after that. Crouching down, I looked along the walls to find a outlet, and I was quite glad after I found one to plug my kindle in. Who knew that they would still have electricity?

Panting, I looked at the stair and made my way curiously up them. I was surprised to see they looked in fairly good shape. Like someone had been taking care of them. Shrugging off the unsettled feeling in my stomach, I entered the first room I saw. It was a fair size, with a bed in one corner and what looked to be a broken mirror. It smelled like an old person in there, and I quickly excited to walk into the only other room.

The room was nearly desolate with the exception of one little bed with pictures scattered around above it. Something rang from the far corner to my left, and I looked over to find an awkward figure just... leaning on the floor. It didn't move when I looked at it the first time, but when I looked away another clang of metal on metal sounded.

Growing frustrated, I stared at the figure again, and opened my mouth to speak, but it beat me to it.

"You're not afraid?" It was a kind, shaky, and dull voice. I was instantly reminded of the legend of the so-called Scissorhands. I held my ground, tilting my head and trying to get a better look at this... thing.

"Um, no. Why should I be?" I asked, or more, snapped. "S'not like I have anything to be afraid of" I kept my words in short sentences, I hated my abnormally un-feminine voice, I hated when I spoke. I hated when people spoke to me.

"I..." A shuffling noise, and the figure stood to his full height. My mouth just gaped open for a moment. I was a average height um... teen, but he still gave off the impression of towering over me. But as he came closer, I could see that was just my own mind-tricks. Thank gods.

"Do you... know who I am?"

I snorted.

"What, you gonna pull something like 'Ooooh I'm the killer Edward Scissorhands!'" I snorted again.

There was a long pause. A very long pause that made my insides tingle.

"I... am"

"Ha! Right, and I'm Jeff the Killer" I snarked, pulling my hood over my head and putting on a devilish grin.

Then I tossed my head back and roared with laughter. "Seriously man, who are you?"

The clank of metal on metal returned as he stepped into the light, and I tilted my head. "Jeez, you're all decked out, even got the hands" I chuckled. "Give it up, I know you aint him. Edward died a loooonnnngggg time ago"

"How are you so sure?" He asked, hardly above a whisper. I cocked an eyebrow, looking him over once more.

The scar's on his face immediately caught my attention, and I touched my bottom lip, where I had a scar aswell.

"This can't be true..." I murmured, twisting my head to look away. "... leave it to me to waltz into a thought-dead killer's home" I growled in frustration. "Bloody hell! I thought I could find a nice safe little spot for me to live, I guess you're gonna go ahead and kill me, aren't cha bud?!" I snarled, my hands balling into fists.

He took a step back, as if he was startled. Ha, a killer being startled by a simpering, bipolar, depressed, and suicidal teen? Comedy gold! I tossed my head, jerking downwards. "You gonna mutilate me or what, silent scissorhands?" I asked, kneeling down. I held out my scarred wrists. Each had two scars running vertically down, and one letter just before each elbow crevice. X on left, O on right. I shook my long curly hair away from my neck. "Go ahead, no one will miss me!"

I heard the clang of metal as he stepped forward. I could see his leather-bound feet just under my head, and he tried lifting me, just prodding my stiff shoulders. Taking the command, I rose.

"I do not understand" He said, he had a serene stance, but his eyes held confusion.

"Dolt" I muttered. He stared again, and I sighed. "Listen man, can I stay here for the night? I promise I'll leave right in the morning if you want me to. I just need my parents to cool off before I go... home..." _Back to hell. _I grit my teeth with each syllable, my eyebrows drawing in.

He seemed frozen, paralyzed. I waved my hand in front of his eyes, and he came back into focus, leaning backwards some as he tried to catch the balance that he had somehow lost.

"Don't need to leave" He said quietly. "You can stay for..." He paused, taking a long breath. "as long as you want"

_Is he retarded or something? _I thought, noticing his lack of word... understanding and comprehending. Perhaps he is just a quiet person, or his parents never talked to him or something. Hell, he was probably just awkward.

"Thank you... by the way... my name is Taylor, but you can call me Sexy Freak" I said jokingly, and he cracked a smile.

"Edward..." He replied, I didn't bother trying to shake his hand, I had enough scars from self-harm and stupidity, I didn't need more.

"I would say it is a pleasure to meet you, but I would be lying" I said blatantly, grinning a forced toothy grin. He smiled back, but obviously didn't understand what I meant from my mixed signals through body language and speech. Whatever, I could probably get him to learn something if he let me stay long enough.

It was going to be a _long _night.


	2. Truthful Music

"Do you like music?" I asked, prancing down the stairs and picking up my backpack. Edward followed at a steady pace behind me. I know what you're thinking; _Why the hell are you turning your back on a killer? _Simple, if I died, it would be of murder, not suicide.

Huffing, I took out my kindle and unplugged the earbuds.

"Music?" Edward said in an almost breathless voice. I turned, and raised my eyebrow.

"You know, people singing to instruments that can sometimes be good and sometimes be horrible." I was growing frustrated, patience was never really my ah... ability.

He nodded, very subtle, very quiet, but still a nod. Rolling my eyes, I scrolled through my music.

"I don't have a lot, so you get to choose. Jack White, Norah Jones, Godsmack, Guitar Heaven, Maroon 5, Katy Perry, The Beastie Boys, Drowning Pool, The Black Eye'd Peas, Alex Clare, or a mixed track..."

He looked a little overwhelmed, and I facepalmed. "Aye-yai-yai! I'll just play all of them, randomized"

Edward jumped as music erupted from my kindle. "Oops..." I muttered, turning the volume down. "Sorry, I do that a lot" I said, tapping my foot to 'Never Surrender' by Skillet.

"Do you know what it's like when  
You're scared to see yourself?  
Do you know what it's like when  
You wish you were someone else  
Who didn't need your help to get by?  
Do you know what it's like  
To wanna surrender?"

I sang softly, and slumped against the wall. The song just... emitted truth from it's depths. The killer just kind of... stared. He didn't react like I thought he would. He was mouthing 'yes'... whenever the song sang a question.

Without warning, he faced me and said, loud and clear. "Yes"

I tucked into my hoodie, hanging my head. "Me too, what happened to you?"

He didn't reply, and a few minutes passed before I realized he was right next to me, slumping on the wall in the same fashion that I had.

"My... dad died, after giving me some real... hands..." He looked down at his scissor hands. "I destroyed them by accident... accident"

I peered at him. "How'd he die...?" I was scared to ask, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Age, he was very old... and wise..."

Sighing, I realized a new song had been playing. 'What lies beneath' by Breaking Benjamin.

"And you?" His words startled me, and I jerked my head up.

"To put it short, my parents never loved me. Sure, they raised me like a normal child, but all I felt was ice"

I fell short, and looked at Edwards hands. "Plus other family matters that I wont bore you with"

He didn't reply, and I rested my head back against the wall, fatigue suddenly weighing down my tired body. I closed one eye, using the other to look at him.

"I really am tired, and want to sleep... goodnight... I guess" I murmured, closing my eyes. I could sleep almost anywhere, and I had been forced to at my old home. The couch was a luxury compared to some places I had to tuck into. The wall was comfy enough to let me at least lightly rest, so why not? I doubted he would let me sleep in his bed, and I really didn't feel like climbing all of those stairs again. I shifted, resting my head on his metal-plated shoulder and drifting off, not even realizing what I had done.


End file.
